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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23616808">Humbug King</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedNGold/pseuds/RedNGold'>RedNGold</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Greatest Showman (2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Background Phillip Carlyle/Anne Wheeler - Freeform, Barnett - Freeform, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Feelings, Humor, Insults, M/M, Phillip and Lettie are the best, Post-Fire, Sexual Tension, Sickfic, kind of</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:53:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,883</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23616808</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedNGold/pseuds/RedNGold</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>James Gordon Bennett hates the circus. He hates everything about it, including its main ringmaster. Particularly its main ringmaster. Especially on such a hot day under the tent.<br/>Well, perhaps 'hate' is too strong of a word...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>P. T. Barnum/James Gordon Bennett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Humbug King</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ahoy Captain! Rare ship ahead!<br/>I had this idea awhile ago, and thought it would be quickly and shortly written. I was wrong on both accounts. I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The crowd is roaring, feet stomping on the wooden bleachers, hands coming together in thunderous applause. Not a single person remains seated as the performers and their ringmaster take a final bow. Not a single person, except one. James Gordon Bennett from the Herald closes his notepad and pen, and tucks them back in his jacket pocket, sighing in relief at the certainty that <em> finally </em> the show is over. His Wednesday night could not have been more uselessly spent. The renowned critic pulls out a handkerchief to wipe at his forehead. The heat is heavy under the circus tent on this hot summer night, all the more thick from the energy emanated from the audience and the artists. Bennett is sure to include this particular lack of comfort and hygiene in his upcoming review of what he considers to be the most offensive and indecent mockery of art he’s ever seen in his life. And yet here he is once again, obligated to let the public know of this ridiculous charade orchestrated by an equally ridiculous man. P.T. Barnum, the biggest thorn in his side aside from the board of publishers at the Herald. At least he can bask in the morbid comfort of knowing that he is responsible for any angry, pulsating vein one might spot on Barnum’s forehead. The small joys of life. Still, Bennett would rather not have to endure his presence any longer than necessary. But, as the merciless fates would have it, their paths continue to cross outside the circus. At cafés, parks, marketplaces. Almost as if Barnum were stalking him just to tantalize him. Bennett wouldn’t put it past him either.</p><p>Bennett remains in his seat while the crowd empties out, unwilling to be rustled by the idiots awe-stricken by simple flashing colors and obnoxious glitter. He wipes at his forehead once more, pinching the bridge of his nose. He can feel his heart beating irregularly, an odd feeling of light-headedness thrumming in his skull. He must be hungry, that’s all. Thirsty as well. He hasn’t eaten much today, unsettled by the heat since this morning. </p><p>“Mr. Bennett!” A loud, familiarly annoying voice booms from a few feet away. Bennett’s eyes snap open, having not even realized he had closed them. “Such a pleasure having you with us again! How was the show?”</p><p>Bennett stands, the movement sending a wave of nausea through him. “The show is over, must you remain as infuriatingly loud?”</p><p>Barnum laughs, loudly and surely on purpose. There is sweat gathered on his forehead and temples as well, but he seems just as energized as ever. It annoys Bennett. “Well how else would I express my absolute joy at seeing you here? Now tell me, what did you think of the new fire jugglers?”</p><p>Bennett steps down the bleachers, walking to stand in front of the ringmaster. His legs feel unsteady, the air beginning to strain to enter his lungs. “One would think you’d have learned to be more careful with f-fire…” he pauses, blinking quickly and repeatedly as his vision blurs, “...by now...Barnum–”</p><p>Darkness.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Barnum’s grin falters as he hears Bennett trip over a word. He then frowns as the man pauses mid-sentence, blinking madly and finally, startles as the critic topples forward. Barnum is quick to react, catching Bennett’s deadweight in his arms, his bowler hat falling off to the floor. </p><p>“Christ! Bennett, what’s the matter with you?” He shakes him a bit, realizing that Bennett is truly unresponsive. “Shit– Can I get some help over here!” He readjusts his hold to make sure he doesn’t drop the man to the floor like a ragdoll, checking the pulse at his neck, relieved to find it beating, if erratically. His skin is cold to the touch, but there are beads of sweat rolling down his temples. Soon enough, a few lingering oddities come running to him, Phillip included.</p><p>“What happened?” Phillip asks, eyeing Bennett’s unmoving form. “Is that–”</p><p>“Goddamn Bennett from the Herald, yes.” Barnum answers, worry lacing his voice. “Let’s get him out of this tent. The office should be cooler. Go ahead of me and open the doors. Con, go get Nathalia, tell her to bring her medical kit and meet us in our tent. Someone grab his hat or he won’t hesitate to shut us down.” He hears Phillip snort before doing as he is told. Huffing a little himself, he shifts once more to set an arm under Bennett’s knees and one on his back, and lifts. He’s light, despite his currently slumped form. His head lulls against his arm, lips minutely parted, his entire body trembling.</p><p>“Bennett, you better have a good review for us after this. Come on.” Barnum carries him to the adjacent tent, his and Phillip’s office, proud to see his partner already clearing out the couch of its stacks of papers. “Great, Phil, good job.”</p><p>Phillip offers him a playful smile. “I wasn’t going to let you drop him on the desk, now, was I?” He watches as Barnum gently sets Bennett down on the couch. “What’s wrong with him?”</p><p>“I have no idea. We were talking, and he just took a plunge.”</p><p>“Did you actually manage to be so shocking as to make our worst critic lose consciousness? Brava.” </p><p>“Funny, Phil. Real funny.” Barnum snips back, nonetheless finding the image entertaining. “Can you go see what’s taking Nathalia so long? And bring Lettie too, if you can. And where’s that hat?”</p><p>Phillip is out with only a mumbled affirmative answer, leaving Barnum alone with his ’enemy’. Barnum crouches down by the couch, observing Bennett’s form. He’s breathing shallowly, his skin still glistening in perspiration. Barnum gently plucks off the man’s glasses, folding them and setting them down on the coffee table. He resumes his observation. “I hope you realize that I could be painting a clown’s face over that mug of yours right now. But I’m not, so you better thank me later. Perhaps with a nice bottle of gin. Or whiskey. Either is fine.” He brushes away a stray lock from Bennett’s eye distractedly. “Although I can’t promise I won’t draw an elephant on your forehead with one of Lettie’s eyeliners.” He chuckles to himself at the image of a furious Bennett with a trumpeting elephant plastered on his skin. Despite appearances, Barnum happens to enjoy his verbal battles with Bennett. His reviews are absolutely frustrating and unreasonably scathing, but they only serve to motivate him further to convince the seemingly joyless critic to understand his vision. Every minute smile he manages to pull from the man, usually by way of a colorful insult, makes his own grin increase ten folds. That’s one of the reasons why he’s taken to following Bennett around the city sometimes, and the man may deny it all he wants, but he <em> does </em> smile when they meet. It’s a nearly invisible smile, but it’s there nonetheless, Barnum is sure of it. They have interesting conversations, too, whenever Barnum decides to intrude on one of Bennett’s afternoon routines. The very first time they had crossed paths outside of the circus <em> had </em> been unintentional. Bennett had been sitting on a park bench, all by his lone-self, book in hand, and Barnum, who had simply been out for a stroll, had not been able to resist invading his personal space. Bennett had protested and prikled in annoyance, but he hadn’t left. A grand victory, in Barnum’s eyes.</p><p>He is interrupted from his reminiscing as the door opens. He turns his head, gesturing at Lettie and Nathalia to come closer. Phillip steps forward too. “Nathalia, our miracle worker, would you mind giving this nice gentleman a once-over and let us know if he needs hospital care?” Nathalia nods, sitting on the couch by Bennett’s side. Barnum stands, giving her space and goes to wait by Lettie and Phillip. </p><p>“Lettie,” Barnum starts, keeping his eyes on Bennett a while longer, “Do you happen to have any eyeliner I could borrow?”</p><p>Before Lettie can answer, Phillip pipes in. “No, she doesn’t. Right, Lettie?”</p><p>“Not unless I get to draw something too.” The bearded-lady grins mischievously, making Barnum smile proudly at her. </p><p>“Cut it out, the both of you.” Phillip scolds, even as his lips twitch upwards. “We’ll be lucky enough if Bennett doesn’t send the Hellhounds after us for this, but he surely will if he wakes up with uncouth sketchings on him.”</p><p>“’Uncouth’?” Barnum smirks. “That’s brilliant. I would have settled with drawing an elephant, but that’s even better. A large, veiny co–”</p><p>“Barnum, I swear–”</p><p>“What about devil horns?”</p><p>“Lettie, not you too–”</p><p>“Why not both?”</p><p>“Please don’t–”</p><p>“Mr. Barnum?” Nathalia calls, interrupting the suggestions, much to Phillip’s relief, “Ready to hear my diagnosis?”</p><p>Barnum’s features turn serious, stepping forward and awaiting for her to continue. He glances down at Bennett, seeing his brow twitching and eyes moving quickly behind his eyelids.</p><p>“Good news is, there won’t be any need for a hospital.” Nathalia states, making both Barnum and Phillip sigh in relief. </p><p>“What’s the bad news, then?” Barnum asks. Nathalia smiles.</p><p>“There isn’t any. Mr. Bennett simply has a case of heat exhaustion. He’ll be fine in a few hours.”</p><p>Barnum blinks. “Heat exhaustion… Really?” </p><p>“Yes. Some people are more sensitive to heat, and with this heat I’m honestly surprised no one else was struck with it either. Just watch him for a bit, get rid of unnecessary tight clothing, find a few small cloths to soak in water and set them on him. Some ice would help, too. Make sure he drinks some water when he wakes up. Don’t worry about his cold skin, that’s normal. He might be a bit delirious at first, but it’ll pass as long as he remains still. And most importantly,” she pauses, and smirks. “Draw him some cat whiskers.” </p><p>Barnum blinks, and laughs, setting the other –conscious– occupants in the room in a bout of tamed laughter as well. “Nathalia,” he takes ahold of her head and kisses her forehead with a loud smack, “Thank you! Now, why don’t you go make sure everyone is alright and no one else is suffering the same uncomfortable fate as Mr. Bennett’s?” Nathalia nods with a smile, and scampers off. </p><p>“I’ll go get some water and rags. And see if we have some ice.” Phillip declares, following Nathalia out. </p><p>Barnum turns back to Bennett, his grin turning into a small, relieved smile. “You’re just being dramatic, aren’t you, Mr. Bennett?”</p><p>A few seconds go by silently before Lettie clears her throat. “You gonna start stripping him soon or what?”</p><p>Barnum snaps his head at her, eyes wide. “What?”</p><p>“Nathalia said to ’get rid of unnecessary tight clothing’. That ain’t just his shoes.”</p><p>Barnum turns his eyes back to Bennett, eyeing his tight-looking vest and shirt. His belt.</p><p>“Can you–”</p><p>Lettie laughs. “No way. You don’t pay me nearly enough, sweetie. Why am I even here?”</p><p>Barnum offers her a crooked smile. “Moral support?”</p><p>She raises an disbelieving eyebrow. “Try again.”</p><p>“Alright fine. I like having your wise advice close-by. Phillip is smart and all, but I need your ’out of the box’ thinking.”</p><p>“Oh really?” Lettie gestures at Bennett. “Does it have anything to do with a certain worst enemy of yours?”</p><p>“He’s not my worst enemy.” Barnum counters with a huff. “Just a nuisance whose company I happen to enjoy.” </p><p>“Sure. Well here’s some advice then.” She pauses. “Gather four cloths. One for his forehead, one for his neck, one for his chest, and one for his navel. Before you ask, yes I’m sure, I’ve had a few experiences with heat exhaustion from my days working at the laundry house. Good luck, Barnum.” She turns and leaves before Barnum can protest.</p><p>Barnum grumbles incomprehensibly, turning back to walk over to the couch. Phillip steps in shortly after, a bucket in hand and a cloth pack in the other. “There wasn’t any ice at the ready, but there should be some in a couple hours.” He hands Barnum his findings. “Here’s some cold water for now, and a few clean cloths.”</p><p>“Good, good.” Barnum says distractedly. Neither man moves to begin the ’treatment’, Phillip shifting on his feet. “So…”</p><p>“So…” Phillip rubs the back of his neck, glancing at the door. “I should check on the troop, see if Nathalia found anyone sick.”</p><p>“You’re worried about Anne, aren’t you?” Barnum raises an eyebrow at his partner knowingly. </p><p>“She’s been working so hard to get tonight’s new trick up and going,” Phillip explains, “and the temperature is even hotter up there on the platforms. I want to make sure she’s fine–”</p><p>“Alright, alright. Go.” Barnum shooes him, “Make sure she <em> and the others </em> are well rested, and then rest yourself. That’s an order. I’ll take care of things here.”</p><p>“Thank you, P.T.” Phillip walks back to the door, “I’ll make sure no one bothers you up here. Goodnight.”</p><p>“Goodnight, Flip.”</p><p>Phillip stops on the threshold. “Oh, and try not to kill each other.”</p><p>Barnum sends a curse after him as the younger man closes the door behind him with a snicker.</p><p>Barnum is then left truly alone with Bennett for the rest of the night. Barnum replays what Nathalia had said to do. So he begins with taking off Bennett’s shoes, then his jacket, then his tie, then his vest, which already proves to be more complicated. He undoes the belt, and pushes down the suspenders. He then notices that the critic’s shirt is soaked with sweat, sticking to his skin. Letting out a long breath, Barnum unbuttons the shirt, letting it fall open on the sides. It reveals a surprisingly toned chest, adorned with a soft-looking layer of light-colored hair. His skin, pale but not sickly so, is coated with goosebumps. </p><p>Barnum sits where Nathalia had sat earlier, setting the bucket of cold water between his legs. He takes one cloth, and dips it in. He squeezes it before folding it and settling it on Bennett’s forehead. Bennett emits a small sound, eyelids fluttering but remaining closed. Barnum huffs a laugh at the reaction, repeating the motion with another cloth and putting it around Bennett’s neck. It earns him a small jerk. The next piece of cloth is spread over his chest, making Bennett’s breath stutter. Finally, Barnum holds the last cloth in his hand for half a minute, staring down at Bennett’s open belt. Clearing his throat, he hesitantly takes ahold of Bennett’s pants and pushes them down slightly. He slides the wet cloth to his navel. Bennett gasps, entire body twitching.</p><p>“Settle down,” Barnum soothes with a tight chuckle, “It wasn’t comfortable for me either.”</p><p>Bennett shivers with a shaky sigh. Barnum can’t help but notice how his nipples have perked up, and his abdomen tightened. Barnum runs a hand through his curly hair distractedly. “This is going to be a long night.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>An hour later finds Barnum half-asleep on the armchair opposite the couch, startled awake only as Bennett groans and shifts. Barnum sits up straighter to observe him, and is pleased to see his eyes slowly blinking open. </p><p>“Finally back to the land of the living, are you?” Bennett groans again, raising a hand to presumably rub at his forehead, but his arm gives out halfway. “Do you know where you are?”</p><p>Bennett slowly turns his head towards him, squinting his eyes. “You’re here,” he croaks, “So I must be in Hell.”</p><p>Barnum barks out a laugh. “Glad to know you still have your wit no matter what, Bennett. You’re in my office, at the circus.”</p><p>Bennett closes his eyes with a tired sigh. “I see no difference.”</p><p>Barnum tsks. “Don’t worry, you’ll get to see the genuine Inferno one day, you ungrateful vulture.”</p><p>Bennett laughs raspily, which shocks Barnum into believing that the man must be delirious. “And what am I supposed to be grateful for, Mr. Barnum?”</p><p>“Let’s start with me not letting you slam that charming mug of yours on the floor. Although it could have been an improvement.” Barnum smirks, leaning forward. “How about carrying your overweight carcass all the way here?”</p><p>“I assure you, I am not overweight.” Bennett replies distractedly, touching the wet cloth on his chest. “I forget to eat.” </p><p>Barnum’s teasing smirk fades away at the probably inadvertent revelation. It would explain the man’s lightness. “That’s surprisingly idiotic of you, Mr. Bennett.”</p><p>He then stands up and fetches the carafe of water he and Phillip usually keep on his desk as well as a large, clean glass. He fills the glass up, walking back to sit on the couch, setting the carafe on the coffee table for quicker access. “Drink up,” he orders, handing the glass to Bennett. The critic's eyes crack open just a sliver, staring at the glass warily before sitting up. He struggles to do the simple task, arms shaking with the effort of pushing himself to an upwards position. Barnum keeps a hold on the glass even as Bennett takes it in hand, helping him to guide it to his lips. Bennett drinks half of the content before dropping his hand with a tired sigh.  </p><p>Barnum huffs. “You should drink more.” Bennett hums in response, shifting and trying to turn to stand. Barnum reacts immediately, placing his hand flat on Bennett’s sternum and pushing him back down. It’s no hard feat, as Bennett has barely managed to move. He’s clearly exhausted and weak. Nevertheless, the critic groans in protest. “Let me go, you br– you im– you ape.” His attempts are sluggish, his voice becoming quieter. “Wh-What is… happening to me?”</p><p>Barnum doesn’t laugh this time, despite the desire to at the failed insults, setting the glass on the coffee table. “You have heat exhaustion. The doctor said you should stay here and rest.” He doesn’t specify that their doctor is a woman who paraded herself as a man to study medicine and is also one Hell of a tightrope acrobat. Barnum trusts her judgement, and that’s all that matters. “So keep still or I won’t hesitate to tie you down.”</p><p>Bennett’s lips twitch upwards, eyes closing and obviously on the brink of sleep. “I would… would n-not… mind.” He slumps with a sigh, leaving Barnum to marvel at what the man has just said. </p><p>After a few seconds of watching Bennett’s breath even out, nonetheless still shallow, Barnum finally blinks out of his stupor. “Delirious or not, don’t count on me to forget that little piece of blackmail.”</p><p>In the meantime, he’ll freshen up the cloths. When he is done, trying not to snicker at every small sound Bennett lets spill from his slightly parted lips, he stands once more, and occupies himself with properly folding Bennett’s vest and tie, then hanging his jacket on the coat hanger. He notices that no one has brought back the hat, wondering which clown took it. As his hands brush against the soft jacket, he feels something solid. Curious, and mostly bored, he peeks inside. There is Bennett’s pen, and his notepad. Smirking mischievously, Barnum pulls out the notepad and pen, and goes back to sit in the armchair. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows this is a breach of Bennett’s privacy, but at this point in tonight’s events, why not have a little fun. He’ll only read tonight’s comments on his show. Skipping through the pages, Barnum chuckles as he reads the words under today’s date:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Once again having to endure this parade of indecency, I can only hope that this atrocity calling itself ’art’ will be permanently shut down for the good of the people of New York City. The man to blame should be thrown to the deepest gallows, never to be seen again. P.T. Barnum is a” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“’P.T. Barnum is a’ <em> what </em>, Bennett?” Barnum asks the unconscious man in mock-frustration. “What am I this time? A genius? An incredible inventor? A great showman? A charming bastard? I need to know.” He laughs at his own jokes, at the image of a Bennett-written review that is anything but despicable. He must be really tired. And bored. “Are you planning on waking up again soon?” No answer. Barnum snorts. “Selfish bastard.”</p><p>He picks up the pen and decides to leave a little momento in the notebook before tucking the objects back into the jacket.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Barnum?”</p><p>Barnum startles awake, looking around reflexively before settling his gaze on Bennett’s shaking form. The man is turned away from him, curled up on his side. Barnum clears his throat from sleep. “Yeah?”</p><p>“It’s cold out here.” Bennett declares, almost as casually as one would read aloud the newspaper headline. But something in his voice seems off, distracted. Confused, perhaps.</p><p>Barnum hums, shaking his head a bit to chase away the drowsy fog in his brain. Wait, what did Bennett say? “<em> In </em> here. We’re in my office. Do you want a blanket?” The temperature is actually quite agreeable now, but it’s probably the heat exhaustion taking a dive.</p><p>He doesn’t receive an answer for a long minute, and thinks Bennett has either passed out again, or simply fallen asleep. But then the critic lets out a shaky sigh. </p><p>“Barnum called me an ice-man once.” </p><p>Barnum blinks, both in surprise that Bennett remembers the jibe from over a year ago, and at the fact that he’s currently talking about him <em> to </em> him. “Well, was I wrong?” He checks the clock on the wall, and thinks that half-past one in the morning is too early to be having these types of conversations with his delirious ’sworn enemy’.</p><p>“I cannot find joy in anything.” Bennett continues, his tone downcast, voice trembling. “I don’t understand.”</p><p>Something tugs at Barnum’s heart at the declaration. Bennett sounds truly saddened by his own admissions. He leans forward in his chair, wanting to make sure he is heard. “Maybe you just haven’t been looking in the right places.”</p><p>Barnum startles when he hears what he swears sounds like a muffled sob. Just one, but it’s enough to make his brow crease in concern and sympathy. Neither man speaks again after that.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Barnum wakes up slowly, finding his sleep perturbed by noises in the background. He tries to ignore them at first, but as his brain begins to connect the wires again, his eyes blink open. He proceeds to rub them before looking at the clock on the wall. Almost five in the morning. </p><p>“Great,” he grumbles, rolling his head to the sides, up and down, in an attempt to rid himself of the stiff feeling in it. He looks over at Bennett, only to discover that he is the source of the high-pitched noises. “You always have impeccable timing, Bennett. I was having the loveliest dream, where you were failing to tame the lions.” He waits for Bennett to hopefully snip back at him, but it would seem he remains unconscious. Barnum sighs, tired and somewhat irritated, but also slightly concerned at the sounds the other man is emitting in his heat exhausted sleep. He sounds uncomfortable, distressed even. Barnum leans forward, and sees that Bennett’s skin is still shining with a coat of sweat. He then notices that three of the cloths have shifted away, most probably when he had turned to his side earlier. The ringmaster wonders if he should wake him up to make him drink some more water. On a selfish note, Barnum would rather not hear these noises coming from Bennett, they unsettle him. Seeing him like this unsettles him, especially after his small monologue earlier. So Barnum stands and sits by his side. He retrieves the four cloths, casting them aside, and gently sets a hand on Bennett’s shoulder. </p><p>“Wakey wakey, Mr. Bennett,” he sing-songs, unable to resist. When Bennett doesn’t react past a small frown, Barnum shakes him a bit. “Come on, you lazy sack of bones, you need to drink.”</p><p>Bennett’s noises of discomfort cease, letting way to a groan as his eyes flutter open. “Barnum…” he whispers, eyeing him for a moment before glancing to the side, “Where am I?”</p><p>“The greatest place on Earth,” Barnum answers with a grin, “You collapsed last night, remember?”</p><p>Recognition seems to spark in Bennett’s eyes, then annoyance, which then switches back to fatigue. He looks into Barnum’s half concerned, half playful eyes, before shifting his gaze to his jaw. “You... need a shave.”</p><p>Barnum huffs in mock-indignation, leaning back. “Nice to see you too, you unholy rodent.” He grabs Bennett’s arms and pulls him to a seated position, earning a low moan from the man. “Oops. Too quick for ya?” Barnum grins unapologetically even as he sets a hand on his back to keep him upright.</p><p>“Too... early to be hearing that grating, uh, voice of yours,” Bennett states, but without the usual bite to his tone. He looks down at himself. “What happened to my... shirt?”</p><p>Barnum coughs uncomfortably. “Doctor’s orders,” he answers dismissively, “Now how does a nice glass of luke-warm water sound?” </p><p>Bennett stares at his chest for a second longer before clumsily pulling his shirt together to hide himself. He looks up at Barnum. “Heavenly.”</p><p>Barnum grins, reaching for the glass. “Hell, Heaven. Didn’t peg you for the religious type.” He hands him the water. Bennett takes it with a trembling hand.</p><p>“Thank you,” he says quietly, and drinks the water eagerly, leaving Barnum stomped at the show of genuine gratitude. He hands it back empty to Barnum, who fills it up again and offers it to Bennett. The critic takes it again, only drinking half of it this time. “I’m not religious. Far from it.” He blinks slowly, slumping a little and chuckling softly. “They’d burn me at the stake.”</p><p>Barnum’s curiosity is peaked once more. “Oh? And why’s that?”</p><p>Bennett doesn’t answer, letting his head fall against his chest with a sigh. Barnum is quick to retrieve the glass before it slips from Bennett’s hands. “Why am I so... tired?”</p><p>“Heat exhaustion.” Barnum tells him again, beginning to wonder if Bennett is still somewhat delirious. “You need to rest.” Bennett mumbles something incomprehensible. Barnum leans in. “What was that?” </p><p>Bennett sighs. “C-Can we open a window? It’s quite warm in here.”</p><p>Barnum frowns, as he takes in the temperature of the room again. It’s leaning more towards cold than hot in the early hours of morn, which means Bennett is not done with his episode. “Why don’t I go get you some ice instead, mm?”</p><p>Bennett only hums in answer and he lets his weight push against Barnum’s hand on his back. Barnum wordlessly eases him back to his previous position. Bennett’s eyes are closed as his head softly settles on its side on the couch cushion. His shirt falls back open. Barnum stands with a soft smile, and makes his way to the storage tent to gather some ice. </p><p> </p><p>When he comes back, cubes of ice in a small box, Bennett is attempting to stand up, looking like a newborn foal. Barnum rushes to him just as he stumbles up, catching him with the waist. “I leave for a few minutes and this is what you do?” He tsks the critic. “What happened to resting?”</p><p>Bennett tries to take a step forward, grunting. “I need to… go home… write article…–”</p><p>“Not right now you don’t. Come on, lay back down–”</p><p>“L-Let go of me… Humbug… Ch-Charlatan–” He twists in Barnum’s hold. Barnum shifts with him.</p><p>“Stop being such a stubborn mule, Bennett, for Christ’s sake–”</p><p>Bennett pulls away sharply and suddenly, losing his balance and forcing Barnum to lean forward to catch him with his one free hand. He only manages to get ahold of one side of the shirt, cursing as Bennett’s weight pulls him down with him. Realizing he will be unable to prevent it, he drops the ice box in an attempt to soften the other man’s and his fall. They land in a heap on the carpeted floor, Barnum’s legs on each side of Bennett’s hips, grunting as his hand is flattened by the back of Bennett’s heavy head, the other luckily managing to stabilize on the floor to avoid bodily crashing onto the delirious critic. Bennett’s eyes are closed once more as he pants shallowly under him. Barnum eases his hand free to lightly slap the man.</p><p>“Hey. Hey. Don’t go passing out on the floor.” Bennett only whimpers softly in response. Barnum huffs, flicking his forehead. “Bennett, hey. Wake up.” Bennett turns his head to the side, unresponsive. Barnum sighs exasperatedly. “For the love of–” He swings his leg over and off of Bennett, leaning back on his arms next to him tiredly. “This is ridiculous. <em> You </em> are ridiculous. Here I was, getting you some nice, cool ice for–” He cuts himself off as a vengeful idea strikes him. He’s allowed to be a bit spiteful at the obstinate critic, isn’t he? He did tell him to stay put, but did Bennett listen? No, he only insulted Barnum, unfairly, if he might add. So one could say Bennett’s brought this upon himself. Barnum chuckles under his breath and shifts to his knees, reaching for the ice box. He takes the lid off, and leans forward with a smirk. He takes ahold of Bennett’s already loosened pants and undergarment, and lifts, purposely averting his eyes. He’s not a pervert, after all. He then grabs a fistful of ice, and quickly dumps it under the man’s clothes and letting go of the fabrics.</p><p>The reaction is almost immediate; Bennett jerks, inhaling sharply before a loud whine makes its way past his throat, echoing through the small tent. Barnum grins in satisfaction, ignoring the way the hairs stand on his arms and neck. Bennett’s eyes finally snap open, confusion and shock shining in them, before they screw shut in discomfort. Barnum sits back on his heels, watching, highly entertained, as Bennett tries to clumsily brush off the cold from his pants, unsuccessfully. Barnum then barks out a surprised laugh when the half-conscious man slips a hand down his pants in another attempt to chase away the melting ice cubes. </p><p>“My, my, Mr. Bennett,” he chuckles, “In public? Who’s the deviant now?”</p><p>Bennett doesn’t pay him mind, or perhaps doesn’t even hear him, his whines turning to short whimpers. He soon gives up his erratic movements, letting his hands fall to the side, hissing through clenched teeth, his hips jerking up now and then as the ice finishes to melt. He breathes in and out a few times, groaning as he seems to come back to his senses.</p><p>“Barnum,” he rasps, “What...did you do to me?”</p><p>Barnum lets out a surprised chuckle. “Me? I’ve been nothing but helpful since the beginning!”</p><p>Bennett’s eyes flutter open, his tired gaze finding Barnum’s amused one for a brief moment, before looking down at himself.</p><p>“Why am I partially undressed?” He frowns, shifting his legs. “And why are my pants wet?”</p><p>Barnum grins innocently. “Oh, right. I molested you, and then you took a piss in your sleep.”</p><p>Bennett’s eyes snap up at him, cheeks turning a sharp red. His mouth opens and closes again without a sound. Barnum winks at him, offering him a lecherous smirk, enjoying Bennett’s reaction. Then he laughs. Bennett’s eyes narrow suspiciously. Barnum playfully pats his leg as he gets a hold of himself.</p><p>“You should’ve seen the look on your face! Priceless!” He continues to chuckle. “The doctor suggested loosening your clothing, and I got creative with the ice, that’s all.”</p><p>Bennett lets out a low growl. “You are an absolute imbecile.” He attempts to sit up, shooting a glare at Barnum as the man helps him into a seated position. “I think it is time for me to take my leave.” He then tries to push himself up, but Barnum sets a heavy hand on his shoulder to keep him down. </p><p>“Ah, ah. You already tried that, and you’re not going anywhere tonight.” He shakes his head at the ridicule of Bennett’s declaration.</p><p>Bennett glowers. “You can’t keep me here against my will.” He swats Barnum’s hand away in annoyance. “I’m fine now.”</p><p>“You’re still sweating.” Barnum points out, and sets a hand on Bennett’s forehead. “And your skin is still clammy.”</p><p>Bennett leans away from the touch. “I assure you, Barnum, I feel much better.” </p><p>Barnum smirks. “Don’t make me tie you down.”</p><p>If he hadn’t been looking for a reaction, Barnum would have missed the minute twitch of Bennett’s eye. “You wouldn’t.”</p><p>Barnum smirks roguishly. “Oh, but I would.” He finds it interesting the way Bennett blushes. “I’ve got some pretty solid ropes laying around here, too. Should I go and get them?”</p><p>“I will obliterate you, and this pathetic excuse of an entertainment establishment, if you even consider–”</p><p>“Watch me.” Barnum suddenly jumps up to his feet with the energy of a twenty-year-old man and just as he is about to run out of the room, he pauses. “But first,” he reaches for the carafe, filling the glass up, and hands it down to Bennett, “Drink up.”</p><p>Bennett blinks up at him, and wordlessly takes the glass, his glare still piercing. Barnum then takes off with a spring to his steps.</p><p>He returns a few minutes later, thick rope in hand and grin on his face. He almost slams into Bennett as he steps through the threshold of the office. He frowns. “Where do you think <em>you</em>’re going, Mr. Bennett?”</p><p>“Anywhere you aren’t, you immoral scoundrel. Now if you’ll excuse me–” He tries to side-step Barnum, who plants a firm hand on his chest.</p><p>“You do realize you’re not even wearing shoes, don't you?” Barnum points out amusedly. “And, congratulations, you’ve managed to close not one, but <em> two </em>mismatched buttons. And God forbid you should leave without your signature hat– Can you even see without your glasses?"</p><p>Bennett blinks confusedly, examining his state of undress as if he had forgotten about it and now doesn’t understand it. Barnum sighs. “Right. You’re clearly in no state to go anywhere. Back to the couch with you.”</p><p>Bennett snaps his head back up. “Step aside, Barnum.”</p><p>Barnum narrows his eyes, a smirk pulling at his lips, raising the rope between them. “I’d apologize for this, but I truly feel no remorse for it.” Before Bennett can question his statement, Barnum throws the rope around Bennett’s waist, steps around him and pulls. Bennett yelps as he stumbles back, dragged back into the office like a weak lamb, struggling not to fall down. </p><p>“Barnum!” he hisses, twisting around and grabbing at the rope, “For God’s sake, let go!”</p><p>Barnum gives a sharp tug, making Bennett crash forward against his chest with a gasp. Barnum laughs, and proceeds to practically dance around the other man, encircling him with the rope until his arms are strapped to his sides. Bennett struggles against it with nonsensical curses, gasping again as Barnum ties a tight knot on his back. </p><p>“Release me, you complete degenerate, fraudulent, wagtail, criminal–”</p><p>“Such language. You’d make a sailor blush.” Barnum laughs, easily manhandling him to the couch to lay on his back. “Now why don’t you be a good lad and stay put?” He kneels on the couch, one knee pressing down against the struggling man’s chest, grabbing his hands to join them at the front. He binds them together with the end of the rope. “There we go. Told you I would.” </p><p>“Untie me this instant, Barnum, or I’ll–”</p><p>“You’ll what? Write a review depicting how much of a terrible nurse I am?” Barnum teases, raising an amused eyebrow. “This is for your own good. You can thank me later.” </p><p>Bennett continues to wiggle under him with muttered groans for a couple minutes as Barnum remains on top of him, before suddenly slumping, the fight seemingly leaving him. “This isn’t over.” he growls tiredly, blinking slowly.</p><p>“Sure it isn’t,” Barnum humors him, “Now why don’t you go back to sleep?”</p><p>Bennett grunts, shifting against his bonds. “At least get off of me. It’s indecent.”</p><p>Barnum lets out a surprised laugh. “If you think <em> this </em> is indecent, then perhaps I won’t show you what else I can do with a rope.”</p><p>Bennett’s eyes suddenly sharpen, just enough for Barnum to see a glint of something in them, before they fall close, the critic’s Adam’s apple bobbing. Barnum huffs, amused and intrigued by that reaction, before swiftly moving off of the man. “But we can discuss that later. Off you go to count the sheep.”</p><p>Bennett grumbles an inaudible answer, breaths already evening out. Barnum shakes his head in fond exasperation, whispering a ’I told you so’ mostly to the quiet room, before moving to his desk, glancing at the empty glass in satisfaction. At least Bennett drank the water, that’s good. Barnum isn’t tired anymore, what with all the commotion, so he sits in his desk chair, and pulls out a few unfinished sketches. He glances at Bennett. “You really are something, aren’t you?” he whispers with a soft chuckle.</p><p>For the next couple hours, Barnum works on his drawings, peering up from his papers to check on the sleeping man, glad to see him breathing normally and resting peacefully, the ropes seemingly not bothering him in the slightest. After a while, he finds nothing new to add to the sketches, so he decides to start on a new one entirely. He looks around for inspiration, once again his eyes landing on the still form of the critic. He hums in thought. The man does have a very aesthetically pleasant figure, similar to an elegant marble statue. Surely he would look great on paper too. Mind made up, Barnum stands from his desk, and goes to take a seat by Bennett’s side, carefully scooching closer. He watches Bennett’s expression for a couple minutes, noticing how his lips are slightly parted, each breath going in and out as soft as the other. His eyes are moving behind his eyelids, his brow twitching minutely. His hair is sticking out at odd angles, understandably. His beard, neatly trimmed, doesn’t even seem to need a comb. All in all, Barnum deducts, and not for the first time, that Bennett happens to have very handsome features. He’ll enjoy sketching him, he thinks, if only to keep as potential teasing material. And so, he begins.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>An hour later, he sighs in satisfaction, holding up his sketch with pride. He gives himself a mental pat on the back for capturing Bennett’s likeness so precisely with nothing but a pencil. He stands, stretching his joints, and goes to carefully tuck the portrait into one of his desk drawers. He looks at the time. Half past eight. Phillip should be coming in any time soon. Perhaps he should untie Bennett. Or perhaps he shouldn’t, and see how long it takes Phillip to notice. The boy is not very perceptive in the morning, at least not before his second cup of coffee. His reaction could be entertaining, as well. And Bennett –unconscious he may be– isn’t complaining. He therefore decides to wait, almost dozing off a couple of times. He considers leaving rehearsals to Phillip today to catch up on a few hours of sleep, and be back in his energetic shape by tonight. That is, if Bennett is able to head home. Nathalia had said to watch him for a few hours only, and unless Bennett is still delirious and unable to properly stand, he’ll let him roam free. For now, he occupies himself with writing down a list of what needs to be done for the rest of the week. He can remember it all in his head, but he is bored. His salvation comes in the shape of his young partner slowly opening the door, coffee in hand and newspaper in the other, eyes roaming over it. He looks as impeccable as ever, but obviously still half-asleep. </p><p>“Morning, P.T.” Phillip greets, glancing up for a second, followed by a small yawn. “You’re here early.”</p><p>“Morning.” Barnum returns jovially, not moving from his chair, trying not to grin like a madman in anticipation of Phillip’s reaction to a tied-up Bennett on their couch. “I never left.”</p><p>“Mm.” Phillip keeps his eyes on today’s paper. “That’s nice.”</p><p>Barnum waits, watching like a hawk as Phillip walks past the couch. He muffles a laugh as the younger man doesn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, sitting down on the chair opposite Barnum, setting his coffee down. He starts a mental countdown of five seconds. Four. Three. Two. One. Phillip frowns, and looks up to Barnum with a tilt of his head. He then turns his head, leaning out of his chair slightly to peer at the couch. Barnum bites his lower lip to prevent a laugh. He can’t help a large grin when Phillip straightens and looks him dead in the eye. </p><p>“Why, Barnum,” he starts, voice tight and already exasperated, “Oh <em> why </em>, is Mr. Bennett tied up on the couch?” </p><p>Finally, Barnum allows himself to laugh, his tired state not helping in the slightest. “Would it help if I said he fought me all throughout?”</p><p>Phillip’s eye twitches. “Would it help– No!” he exclaims before realizing the intensity of his voice and lowering its volume, “Barnum, answer me this. Are you <em> trying </em> to get us shut down? Because this is exactly the kind of nonsense that will– Will you stop laughing!”</p><p>Barnum manages to wind down, still chuckling at the look of absolute astonishment on Phillip’s face. He holds up his hand when Phillip tries to talk again, borrowing his cup of coffee and drinking a large gulp from it. Phillip grumbles in protest without actually making a move to stop him. He’s used to it. He sighs. “<em> Now </em> will you tell me why you decided to antagonize a sick man?”</p><p>“Good to see you’re awake enough to remember he was sick. So don’t go thinking this was some perverse game or anything.” Barnum’s grin only widens at Phillip’s look of horror.</p><p>“I had not been thinking that in the slightest, but now I am. Oh Lord no, the imagery–”</p><p>“Please. You like it.”</p><p>“I most certainly do not! What and who you do in your own time is your own business, but do not make me imagine it with Bennett!”</p><p>“And whyever not?” Barnum raises a teasing eyebrow, smirking. “Are you jealous?”</p><p>“<em> Jealous </em>?” Phillip guffaws. “Why would I be– Wait, are you actually… with..?” he points at the critic, eyes wide.</p><p>Barnum blinks, suddenly tamer, his smirk fading. “What? No, of course not.” He clears his throat, “I was joking.” He takes another sip of coffee to hide his possible reaction to the thought.</p><p>It’s Phillip’s turn to smirk. “Oh? Have I hit a nerve, P.T?” He leans forward on his elbows. “I’m not judging. I could see how you two would fit together. All that fighting–”</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous. There is nothing going on between Bennett and I.” Barnum cuts in with a roll of his eyes. “We’re both men, as far as I know.” He glances away and back at Phillip, ready to gauge his reaction.</p><p>Phillip’s smirk turns into a soft smile. “And you think I care? Look around us, since when do we conform to the typical and mundane?”</p><p>Barnum lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He never really believed that his friend would disapprove of his partial preferences, but it is nevertheless a relief to hear Phillip confirm it. Barnum clears his throat again. “Nevertheless, we can’t stand each other.” He pauses. “Therefore I am not holding a candle for that criticizing weasel.”</p><p>Phillip leans back in his chair, taking his coffee back as he does so. “The showman doth protest too much, methinks.” </p><p>Barnum laughs. “Be quiet, you.”</p><p>“<em> Both </em> of you, be quiet,” comes Bennett’s raspy voice, “How can one pair of brainless imbeciles be so loud on this ungodly morning?” </p><p>The two ringmasters turn their attention to the critic who is currently struggling to sit up. “Good morning to you too, princess.” Barnum shoots back. “Glad to have you back with us.”</p><p>Bennett, now seated, turns to glare at both of them, but mostly at Barnum. “Instead of wasting air, come here and untie me, so I can head to the police station and have you arrested for kidnapping.”</p><p>“I believe they’ll be sending us a ’thank you’ card for keeping a delirious and potentially dangerous man off the streets last night.” Barnum retorts with a smirk, making no move to stand. </p><p>“And I believe you are describing yourself, Barnum.” Bennett drawls, keeping a straight posture despite his current predicament. </p><p>“And <em> I </em>believe that Mr. Bennett is feeling better.” Phillip pipes in. “Therefore, perhaps he should be released?”</p><p>“Mm, I don’t know, Phillip.” Barnum says with exaggerated musing, standing up. “A sane man would thank me for all the trouble of taking care of him. And apologize for insulting an innocent man–”</p><p>“You are far from innocent.” Bennett cuts in dryly.</p><p>“–who talked me out of drawing a crude phallus on your forehead. Isn’t that right, Phillip?”</p><p>“Uh–”</p><p>“My apologies to you, Mr. Carlyle, for calling you a brainless imbecile, when you are simply an imbecile for still working here.” Bennett says emotionlessly. “Satisfied, Barnum?”</p><p>Barnum looks at Phillip, clearly amused, raising an eyebrow in silent question. Phillip visibly holds back a smile, standing. “I don’t think it’ll get any better than that.” He looks to Bennett. “Apology accepted. I’m glad to see you well again, Mr. Bennett. Good luck.” With a parting wink to Barnum, Phillip casually walks out of the office.</p><p>The room falls silent for a few seconds as Barnum walks to stand in front of Bennett, arms crossed smugly, looking down at him with a smirk. “Anything you want to say to me, perhaps?”</p><p>Bennett glowers. “Untie me.”</p><p>“Nope. Try again.”</p><p>“Untie me, or I will lead an irreversible boycott against this godforsaken circus from which you will never recover.”</p><p>Barnum laughs. “Aw, Bennett, does this mean you’ve always had the power to do so but chose not to? I’m touched, truly. But no. You’re close, however, as I will accept a bargain.”</p><p>Bennett’s eyes narrow, sitting all the more straight. “What bargain?”</p><p>Barnum smirks devilishly, leaning forward. “Dinner.”</p><p>Bennett blinks, and frowns in confusion, having not expected that. “Dinner?”</p><p>“Dinner.” Barnum confirms. “My place. Tomorrow night.”</p><p>“I… don’t understand.” Bennett seems truly thrown off, looking at Barnum with suspicion.</p><p>“I want you, Mr. Bennett, to have dinner with me, in exchange for your freedom.”</p><p>Bennett remains silent for awhile, not breaking eye contact, seeking for the trick behind this proposition. Finally, he glances away, responding with a quieter voice. “Fine.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that.” Barnum grins, a pleasant swarm of butterflies flying around in his stomach. </p><p>“I said <em> fine </em>.” Bennett snaps. “Now untie tie, for God’s sake.” </p><p>“So impatient for a man who likes to be tied up.” Barnum snickers, nevertheless sitting down next to the critic and taking ahold of the knot behind his back. </p><p>“I beg your pardon?” Bennett twists to shoot him a glare. “What are you implying now, you blackmailing dimwit?”</p><p>“I’m not implying anything.” Barnum answers with a casual tone as he takes his time in undoing the knot. “Simply stating facts. You have quite the loose tongue when you’re delirious.”</p><p>Bennett shifts, his shoulders squaring. He looks back in front of him with a huff. “You are exasperating.”</p><p>“Perhaps.” Barnum chuckles. “But not a liar. I hope you’ll tell me more about it Friday over a glass of scotch.”</p><p>“There’s nothing to tell.” Bennett answers snidely. </p><p>“We’ll see about that.” Barnum lets the rope fall loose. “Turn around.” Bennett does so, raising his tied hands. Barnum slowly unknots them, letting his fingers brush against Bennett’s. Finally freed, Bennett is quick to pull his pants back up properly, a clear blush on his cheeks. He then stands, and buttons up his shirt properly, scowling at the creases. </p><p>“Where are the rest of my clothes?” he asks without looking at Barnum, who remains seated. “And my glasses?”</p><p>“Shoes are by the desk, vest and tie are folded on the chair here, jacket is on the hanger, and I’ll let you guess where your glasses are.”</p><p>Bennett turns to glare at him. “You should have been a clown.” He heads for the shoes first, giving Barnum the chance to stand and discreetly grab the glasses off the coffee table, tucking them in his breast pocket with a smirk. </p><p>“Speaking of clowns. Your hat is, unfortunately, unaccounted for.” He watches Bennett grumble and retrieve his clothes, raising his eyebrows in surprise as the other man narrowly avoids hitting the desk with his hip.</p><p>“Just how blind are you?” Barnum asks amusedly, genuinely curious.</p><p>“Nearsighted.” Bennett answers curtly, attempting to tie his tie, succeeding only in creating a barely decent knot.</p><p>“Are you still tired, then? Don’t think I didn’t notice your near-miss with my desk.” Barnum steps closer to him, stopping a couple inches in front of the man. “Here, let me.” He takes ahold of the tie, undoing the clumsy attempt and swiftly making a Windsor knot. </p><p>“Perhaps I am still somewhat fatigued.” Bennett answers with a sigh, tilting his head back to allow Barnum to adjust his collar around the tie, his lack of fight a definite tell-tale of his state of exhaustion. “I will sleep soundly in my own bed, away from the putrefaction of art stuck in these rubber walls.”</p><p>Barnum hums, both amused and distracted, subtly admiring the critic’s pale, unblemished neck before releasing the tie. “Here we go, all nice and presentable once more. Oh, wait.” He fishes the glasses out of his pocket, unfolds them, and carefully places them on top of Bennett’s nose, booping it with a grin.</p><p>Bennett blinks in stupor, his gaze flickering down to Barnum’s dazzling grin for half a second before taking a step back and clearing his throat. “You are a child.”</p><p>Barnum chuckles. “That may be, but that only makes me more likeable.”</p><p>“You overestimate yourself.” Bennett deadpans.</p><p>“Do I?” Barnum takes a step forward, his tone dropping lower. “Or rather is it that <em> you </em>underestimate me, Mr. Bennett?”</p><p>The tension suddenly tightens in the room as Bennett clenches his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I think I’ve been sequestered for long enough.” He turns around, prepared to leave. Barnum follows him outside of the office and through the main tent towards the exit. “Eight o’clock tomorrow night, Bennett,” he calls, “Is that an agreeable time?”</p><p>“<em> Yes </em>.” Bennett snaps without stopping in his tracks. “Are you so unfamiliar with discretion?” </p><p>Barnum chuckles, and looks to the other end of the tent, where Phillip, Anne, W.D. and Lettie are talking. “Hey, guys! Guess what!”</p><p>Phillip and the others turn to look at him and Bennett. “What?” Phillip hollers back.</p><p>“I have a date with Mr. Bennett Friday night!”</p><p>Bennett groans loudly, raising a hand to cover the side of his face as he hurries his steps.</p><p>“That’s great, P.T!” “That’s very sweet, Mr. Barnum!” “You better be a gentleman about it, Barnum!” “Way to go, sweetie!”</p><p>Barnum laughs, feeling a warm wave of affection for his troop before lifting the tent flap for a disgruntled, blushing Bennett to pass through. “I’ll see you soon, Mr. Bennett, your word as a gentleman.”</p><p>Bennett mumbles a curse as he exits the circus, followed by Barnum’s hearty laugh.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Bennett is quick to find his way home, unwilling to be seen in such an embarrassing state of blushing disarray. Why did he have to collapse at that blasted circus? He would rather have done so right outside and be left to the random passer-by’s moral code. But no, naturally he had to be tended to, against his will, by Barnum and his lackeys. Admittingly, he doesn’t feel nauseous or lightheaded anymore, simply in need of a good night’s rest, so perhaps Barnum did perform adequately as a caregiver. But Bennett has the feeling that he’s missing something else, blurred memories of last night swimming around in his confused brain. He feels disconcerted by all of this, by having been shown so weak, undressed and vulnerable in front of his accursed enemy. Not to mention the dinner he has been bargained in. What can possibly be Barnum’s intention by swindling an evening with him? More torment? Quite probably. A hidden agenda? Undoubtedly. Nevertheless, Bennett finds his curiosity peaked, anticipation already coiling in his gut. Who is he to back down on his ’word as a gentleman’, as Barnum had so aptly put it? Who is he to refuse an evening of back and forth sharp-witted insults that challenge him not to smile? Besides, he doesn’t have any other plans on Friday night, which is a harrowing thought in itself. He, James Gordon Bennett, a renowned critic, a healthy man of respectable age, has no one with whom to spend his Friday night. Or any other night. He knows why, however. Not many can stand his character traits, and his appearance is not what one would call ’attractive’. He’s neither repulsive nor handsome, simply in between. Banal. Unlike Barnum, whom he must admit is an exceptionally appealing man. Barnum, who can light up a room simply by entering it, whose smile could bring down an entire building of disapproving citizens, whose laugh could stir up happiness in the most joyless of them, like it has in himself. Bennett considers himself to be a man of logic, guided by rational thoughts rather than erratic emotions. But when it comes to Barnum, Bennett finds himself somewhat at an impasse; The man always manages to pull some contradicting feelings to the surface, some with which he is familiar, such as frustration, apprehension, exasperation, and others he usually keeps at bay, such as excitement, thrill, fondness, <em> desire </em>. Bennett has long since acknowledged these feelings in order to analyze them, but as to what to do with them, he remains moderately unsure. The former, he pours into his articles about the circus. The latter, he satisfies by allowing Barnum to seek him out for coffee or a drink, or engaging in a verbal spar with the occasional lingering glares. </p><p>Of course, he agreed to Friday night’s plans for the sake of his freedom, but he knows he could have put up a fight, and he knows why he didn’t. As long as Barnum doesn’t learn that Bennett finds his company revoltingly agreeable, then he will continue to allow himself to believe Barnum genuinely appreciates his in return. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Barnum readjust his collar for possibly the tenth time this evening as he passes by the living room glass door. He doesn’t know why he is so nervous, restless. Everything is going just fine, the kitchen hasn’t burned down, the roast is in the oven, slowly cooking, the sliced and spiced potatoes and mushrooms gently crisping golden alongside the wine-soaked meat. And finally, the dessert, a chocolate mousse with his own special touch –raspberries and a generous amount of rum– is cooling in the cellar. The wine is ready to be opened, and the post-dinner scotch bottle at the fore-front of his liquor cabinet. The house looks spotless, and he’s cleaned up pretty nicely himself. There is no reason for him to feel so twitchy, and yet, he is currently pacing in the entrance hall, looking at his pocket watch every couple of minutes. He had naturally been joking when he had shouted across the tent about having a date with the critic, because not only is Barnum definitely <em> not </em>interested in Bennett, but the chances of Bennett actually having similar preferences are most likely improbable. Nevertheless, his gut has been badgering him to create a perfect evening. </p><p>When the clock strikes eight, Barnum is suddenly hit with doubt; What if Bennett doesn’t show up? What if he had never planned to, and had only been amusing Barnum? Well at least Bennett will have no way of knowing all the trouble Barnum had gone through to organise this evening, therefore no new material with which to mock him. Barnum will simply carry his disappointment silently. He is already beginning to scold himself for acting like an overexcited imbecile, when he suddenly hears the sound of trotting hooves. His heart skips a beat, a grin breaking out. He stops his pacing, lending an ear towards the front door. One horse, stepping on crunching leaves. It gets closer, and stops. Silence. Then a door softly shuts, and the sound of hooves departs. Silence once more. Barnum cautiously steps closer to the door, listening in with a confused frown. Bennett –for who else would it be– should have reached and knocked on the wooden door by now. </p><p>Barnum then startles as a knock finally resounds. He puts a hand on the handle, ready to open it, when he decides to wait at least a few seconds as not to seem like he had been waiting impatiently behind the door. Which he had, but that’s nobody else’s business. The seconds tick by slowly, and, taking a deep breath, he opens the door with his showman smile.</p><p>“Bennett!” he exclaims immediately, “Lovely to see you again.”</p><p>Bennett appears stoic, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at the overjoyous tone. “I hardly had a choice in the matter.”</p><p>Barnum chuckles, holding the door open to let him in. Bennett’s walk holds a familiar haughty step to it. “I’m glad I didn’t overestimate your gentleman morals, then.”</p><p>“Truly.” Bennett answers dryly, and hands Barnum a small royal blue paper bag. “I believe it is customary to bring a bottle to the host, and in hopes it will make the evening pass by quicker.”</p><p>Barnum accepts the bag, fishing out a bottle of whiskey. “Aren’t you a treat.” He inspects the offering with a pleased grin. “Whiskey. You remembered.”</p><p>“’Remembered’?” Bennett asks confusingly, taking off his coat. Barnum takes it, and carefully hangs it on the coat hanger.</p><p>“I had a conversation with your unconscious corpse the other night about being owed a bottle for my valiant efforts.”</p><p>Bennett huffs. “Then it is impossible for me to remember your nonsensical ramblings at that time.”</p><p>Rolling his eyes, Barnum guides him to the living room. “You sure have a knack for taking the fun out of something.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Bennett’s lips quirk up, before taking a deep inhale through his nose. “What a pleasant aroma. Is your staff still on hand?”</p><p>“Oh no, not at this hour. Besides, they only come for the cleaning a couple times a week.” Barnum informs him. “Dinner should be ready in a few minutes. Can I interest you in a glass of wine?”</p><p>“Desperately.” Bennett drawls as he takes in the living room while Barnum walks through it to exchange the newly acquired whiskey for the wine he had picked, knowing whiskey is usually kept for after dinner. “Do you mean to tell me you cook for yourself?”</p><p>“Don’t you?” Barnum calls back from the other side of the room as he uncorks the bottle, chuckling at Bennett’s huff. He pours them both a glass and walks back to Bennett, handing him one. “There we are.”</p><p>Bennett brings the glass up to his nose, delicately sniffing its content. Barnum snorts. “It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you’re wondering.”</p><p>Bennett lowers his glass, shooting Barnum an unimpressed look. “I worry more about your taste in wine rather than your attempt at murder.” He smirks then. “Besides, should I mysteriously die tonight, you are listed in my will as the perpetrator.”</p><p>Barnum barks a loud laugh, almost making Bennett startles. “Oh Bennett, you vulture, no one else can match my wit like you. Or comes as close to, anyway.”</p><p>“Or perhaps no one else is willing to try.”  </p><p>Barnum laughs again, setting a strong hand on Bennett’s shoulder, nudging him playfully. “You sweet-talker, you. Now be a willing victim and drink the wine.”</p><p>Bennett mumbles under his breath, and does as ordered. Barnum watches his expression switch from dubious to surprised, to confused, to pleased. He grins. “So? What do you think of my tastes now, Mr. Critic?”</p><p>Bennett swallows, and lets out a breath. “Adequate.”</p><p>Barnum shakes his head in fond exasperation, taking a sip of his own glass. “Come on, let’s see what you think of my cooking skills.” Barnum gestures for Bennett to follow him.</p><p>“You sure seem to crave my positive opinion, Barnum. Are you that desperate for approval?” Bennett trails after Barnum to the dining room. </p><p>“Simply rearranging my strategy. First the wine, then the food, and eventually, my show.”</p><p>“That’s quite a presumptuous jump.” Bennett comments.</p><p>Barnum chuckles, pulling up a chair for Bennett to sit in. “Oh, I don’t know. There might be a few things in between that will bring you to my side.” He winks.</p><p>The critic huffs, but nonetheless sits down in the proffered seat, brushing the white cloth as he does so. “I highly doubt it.”</p><p>Barnum hums, leaning in close to whisper conspiratorially in Bennett’s ear. “We’ll see about that.” He smirks at the way Bennett tenses, and heads to the kitchen. He returns a few minutes later with two trays, deposing one carefully in front of Bennett and the other perpendicular, where he takes a seat. Their knees brush under the table. </p><p>“Prepare to experience new culinary colors.” Barnum showcases, grinning, before pulling the bell off their trays. “Bon ippetit!” </p><p>“Bon <em> appetit </em>.” Bennett corrects, grunting when it earns him a kick under the table. Barnum watches Bennett under his lashes, immensely pleased when the man’s eyes widen minutely at the first bite and then takes another. Barnum smiles discreetly, properly digging in now as well. </p><p>“Tell me, Mr. Bennett, what do you think about humpback whales?”</p><p>Bennett looks up. “I beg your pardon?”</p><p> </p><p>From there on, they begin discussing different types of whales, continuing with the advantages of travelling by air balloon over the ocean, shifting to political stunts and the current New York governor’s corruption, as well as entering into a debate on whether the city should expand in width or in height, all the while inserting playful insults throughout. Soon enough, they have both emptied their plate and glasses a couple of times, and Barnum clears the dishes. They head back into the living room, opening Bennett’s bottle of whiskey and grabbing fresh glasses as they go. Bennett takes a seat on the couch, observing Barnum amusedly as he struggles with the cork.</p><p>Bennett sighs contentedly. “I have to admit, Barnum, I haven’t had such a lovely meal in a long time.”</p><p>“Told you I’d get you on my side.” Barnum says proudly, finally managing to uncork the bottle. He pours them both a thumb, walking to the couch and sitting right next to Bennett.</p><p>“Although I must ask, why did you go through all the trouble of doing everything yourself?”</p><p>Barnum hands him the glass, clinking them together. “I find cooking to be quite enjoyable.”</p><p>Bennett raises an eyebrow, wordlessly asking for some clarifying details.</p><p>“Mm.” Barnum hums thoughtfully. “I used to do it before I had the means to afford not to, and I found I couldn’t part with the recreation. Plus, it is always humbling to remind myself that I no longer need to scavenge for food.” </p><p>When Bennett remains silent, a small frown on his brow, Barnum chuckles, tapping his knee, letting his hand rest there. “Come now, Mr. Bennett, don’t go all soft on me now.”</p><p>Bennett clears his throat, acutely aware of Barnum’s hand on him. “I know of your past, as I did my research when your show crawled its way out of Hell. However, I did not expect you to openly mention it.” He takes a sip of his drink.</p><p>Barnum shrugs, ignoring the jib at his work. “I usually don’t, not with investors, bankers, strangers, or even casual acquaintances in general. But seeing as you are none of those, I see no harm in speaking of it.” He takes a sip of the whiskey, hoping Bennett won’t correct him in his insinuation of their friendship.</p><p>“Most if not all men of your wealth and… popularity would work hard to keep these types of facts about themselves silent.”</p><p>“I am not most men,” Barnum counters with a small smirk.</p><p>Bennett tilts his head minutely. “No. No, you are not.”</p><p>Barnum winks at him, and refills their glasses a couple inches. “Tell me, however. If you already knew, why haven’t you demeaned me in one of your infamously beloved articles?”</p><p>Bennett sighs, looking down into his glass. “You may think me a heartless man, but even I have my ethics. I see no reason to land a blow where it is undeserved.” He sets his glass on the coffee table. Barnum raises a surprised eyebrow. </p><p>“Why, that is surely the nicest thing I’ve ever heard from those venomous lips of yours.” He gently hums in mock-thinking. “Perhaps you’re not such an iceman after all.” He observes Bennett’s lips as they twitch upward for a fraction of a second. “And just so you know, I don’t find you to be heartless. Joyless, now that’s another matter. One that I intend to rectify one way or the other.” </p><p>Bennett looks back at him. “Dare I even ask–”</p><p>“It would involve a variety of home-made foods, outings to exotic and exciting places, and a few ropes.”</p><p>Bennett blushes. “I– Ropes? Why– No, I’d actually rather not hear the answer.” He pauses as Barnum laughs, features softening at the sound. He even joins in with a small chuckle. The laughter eventually subsides, both men falling into comfortable silence as Bennett unwillingly thinks back on the night he spent at the circus, waking up tied like a wild animal, his traitorous brain supplying him with a jolt of desire. Then he replays Barnum’s declaration of intent a few seconds ago. Home-made meals, outings. If he didn’t know better, he’d think these would suggest an actual courting. The thought of it sends envy through him, the desire for companionship and domesticity calling to him, the buried sentiments for the man next to him banging against their cage in his heart. He speaks up quietly. “I don’t think I’ve thanked you for… making me somewhat comfortable during my display of heat fatigue.” He pauses. “Thank you.”</p><p>Barnum smirks. “You ought to quit drinking, Bennett. It’s really making you say the darndest things.”</p><p>Bennett huffs, shaking his head in half-hearted exasperation. </p><p>“You’re welcome.” Barnum then answers with a soft smile. He sets his glass down as well, before looking back up into Bennett’s eyes, his own gaze glinting. He squeezes Bennett’s knee.</p><p>Bennett clenches his jaw, a small blush appearing on his cheeks. Barnum finds it incredibly enticing, and it is exactly at that moment that the realization strikes him: He is attracted to Bennett, undeniably so. Physically. Emotionally. The whole forsaken deal. And as he replays every reaction elicited from the other man over the course of the evening and long before, he’s ready to bet his circus that Bennett is as well. An impulse suddenly shoots through him, making him slowly, cautiously slide his hand a couple inches further up Bennett’s leg. “I’m glad I get to see this more open side of you,” Barnum murmurs lowly, making Bennett flicker his gaze up at him, tensing before glancing down at the large hand, and shifting subtly as such as his legs part minutely more. By the way Barnum’s eyes glimmer, he must have noticed. “In fact, I bet you’re just hiding behind that cold hatred facade, aren’t you?” Barnum continues, perhaps encouraged by the gesture and the few drinks they’ve had, as well as the familiar gut feeling of approval. He permits his hand to continue its trek up, stopping only on Bennett’s upper thigh. “You have feelings, somewhere underneath that hardened shell. Hopes, dreams. Desires.” </p><p>“As all human beings do.” Bennett answers quietly. Barnum brings up his free hand, tilting Bennett’s chin up so their eyes can meet. He sees vulnerability and longing in Bennett’s dark blues.</p><p>“Why don’t we stop lying to ourselves, Bennett?” Barnum suggests, heart momentarily seizing at his own boldness, his tone light while still expressing the seriousness of the situation. “Cease denying what’s happened?”</p><p>Bennett is unable to look away from Barnum’s enticing hazel eyes, his heart skipping a beat. “Something has happened?” His voice tightens, his brain unwilling to give itself hope with the vague insinuation.</p><p>Barnum’s lips quirk up. “Unfortunately. Something quite out of both our control. Terribly inconvenient, too. But here it is anyway.”</p><p>“I’m not sure what you–” Bennett tries weakly, throat constricting.</p><p>“Look at me, into my eyes” Barnum cuts in as he orders softly, leaning closer, “What do you see?” </p><p>Bennett swallows thickly, staring into his reflection in Barnum’s hazel orbs. “I see your pupils. Barnum, what–”</p><p>“Deeper than that,” He leans even closer, “<em> James </em>.”</p><p>Bennett’s breath stutters at the way his name almost drips from Barnum’s lips in a velvet tone, goosebumps rising on his skin when Barnum’s other hand gently settles on the back of his neck.</p><p>“Have you been reading dubious novellas–”</p><p>“<em> James </em>," And Lord, his name has no right sounding this sultry coming from this man, making Bennett near moan, “do not make me ask again.”</p><p>Bennett swallows thickly, a spark igniting in him. “I see…” he hesitates, unsure, “Lunacy?” </p><p>“Close enough.” Barnum smirks minutely, and closes the distance between them, their lips connecting gently. Bennett gasps quietly, unresisting as his eyes flutter close, a soft sound stuck in his throat as he pushes closer.</p><p>They eventually pull away for air while remaining close enough to breathe in the other’s soft pants. Barnum, for once, seems to be at a loss for words, eyes wide and pupils blown, gazing over Bennett’s equally dazed expression. Their eyes meet just long enough for Bennett to send him a warning before lunging for another kiss. Their lips meet again, quicker this time, more passionately, a newly released hunger connecting them. Bennett’s hands come up to tangle in the curly hair on Barnum’s nape as well as his shirt while Barnum’s slides higher on Bennett’s thigh on its own accord. Bennett gasps into the kiss as he feels that large hand lightly brush between his legs where heat has already begun to coil. Barnum takes the opportunity to explore every inch of Bennett’s mouth with his tongue, enthusiastic yet still cautious. It earns him a high-pitched sound, similar to a keen, and a tightened grip in his hair. Bennett nearly bucks forward as Barnum responds with a groan and another, firmer brush against his groin. When they part this time, arousal has added itself to the glint in their eyes.</p><p>“Perhaps we should move to the bedroom,” Barnum almost purrs, his voice low and clearly affected by the man whose lips he has already developed an addiction to.</p><p>“O-Oh?” Bennett breathes, as a jolt of electricity travels down his spine. He licks his lips, “And why’s that?”</p><p>“Your hat’s up there,” Barnum says with a desirous smirk.</p><p>Bennett blinks, his eyes glazing over with desire. “You don’t say?”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The sun rises through clear skies the next morning, shining its pink glow through the curtains and on Bennett’s peaceful expression. Barnum watches him, laying on his side, a soft smile on his face. He’s been awake for nearly half an hour, simply content to watch his companion rest, admiring the youthful features sleep brings him. He permits his eyes to roam lower too, his gaze trailing along the man’s bare chest, only half-covered by the blankets, leaving the rest to the imagination. Or to the memory, in Barnum’s recent case. The mere thought of the previous night sends Barnum for a spin, albeit a pleasant one, still astounded at the electrifying physical chemistry the two of them had discovered together. Barnum doubts he’ll be able to keep his hands and his lips off the critic for very long. For now, he silently watches, brushing the stray locks away from Bennett’s face when needed. Eventually, he begins playing with the soft hair altogether, huffing in amusement when Bennett leans into the little tugs. After another few minutes, Bennett stirs with a drowsy sound that Barnum finds himself smitten with immediately.</p><p>“Good morning,” Barnum greets with a grin, before adding teasingly, “Muffin.”</p><p>Bennett’s eyebrow raises even as his eyes remain closed. “Mmno. Try again.”</p><p>“Bear cub?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Shmuckums?” Barnum grins at the resulting repulsed frown.</p><p>“<em> God </em> no.”</p><p>“Sweetheart.” Barnum declares fondly. “Final offer.”</p><p>Bennett doesn’t answer right away, cracking his eyes open, and looking up at Barnum with a glint in his pupils. “’Sweetheart’,” he echoes slowly, “That is agreeable,” he pauses, “Darling.”</p><p>Barnum’s grin widens, butterflies erupting in his stomach. He leans closer to kiss the other man, who answers eagerly. “What a romantic.” Barnum cooes as they pull away. “Now that this is settled, how did you sleep?”</p><p>Bennett clears his throat of any remnant of sleep, rolling his shoulders. “Better than I have in years.”</p><p>“Is that so? Did I happen to play a role in that improvement?”</p><p>“Don’t think so highly of yourself.” Bennett smirks, his tone nevertheless letting Barnum know that yes, obviously. He shifts under the covers to stretch, and winces for it. “However, I seem to have acquired some soreness overnight. I doubt I will enjoy sitting down on those ungodly benches of yours anytime soon, not that I ever did before. Do you care to take credit for that too?”</p><p>Barnum chuckles, pecking Bennett’s lips. “Absolutely.” Bennett barely resists chasing after the pair of delicious lips, knowing it’d lead to a distraction from the question that burns on his tongue. They remain in comfortable silence for a few seconds, but Barnum notices the way Bennett fiddles with the sheets under him.</p><p>“Something on your mind, sweetheart?”</p><p>“Is my hat actually in here somewhere?”</p><p>“Maybe.” Barnum huffs, momentarily amused. “But that’s not what’s giving you that uncertain look. You can tell me.”</p><p>Bennett internally preens at the affectionate term of endearment, but summons his courage to the surface. He takes a deep breath. “I will make you buy me a new hat, Barnum–”</p><p>“Phineas.” Barnum corrects gently before he can stop himself. “Or P.T. Or Barnum, if you’re more comfortable with it.”</p><p>Bennett’s heart tugs in his chest. “Phineas,” he tries the name, feeling it melt perfectly on his tongue. He mentally shakes himself, unwilling to be distracted by the tingles in his body, “What is this? Between us.”</p><p>Barnum’s expression turns serious. He doesn't break eye contact as he seems to think. “You want to know if this is simply a physical arrangement?” Bennett nods, relieved Barnum understands what he wants, needs, to know. “It isn’t, James, not for me. I don’t want it to be anything casual. I’ve come to realize that there is a man underneath the critic. A sensitive man, who despite his statement otherwise, cares about what people think of him, and desires to be understood. From all our time spent together so far, be it as rivals at my circus, acquaintances at the park, or friends at the bar, I’ve barely begun to discover all your different layers. But I want to. I want to know everything that makes you uniquely you. And I want to tell you everything in return, James.”</p><p>Bennett blinks at the sobering answer, the confidence in it. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His body reacts before his brain, and he is kissing Barnum again. Barnum doesn’t miss a beat. They kiss for a long minute before parting, panting lightly. Bennett fixes him with a loving glare. “You’ve ruined me, Phineas Barnum. You’ve absolutely ruined me.”</p><p>Barnum offers him a delinquent grin. “I feel no remorse.”</p><p>“Of course you don’t.” Bennett huffs, shifting to lay closer to Barnum. “No king of humbug would.”</p><p>Barnum gathers him in his arms with a chuckle. “If I am king, does that make you my queen?”</p><p>“Careful,” Bennett warns even as he sets his head against Barnum’s broad chest, “I might be tempted to overthrow you.”</p><p>“If you do, I’ll let your newspaper know how divine you look all tied up. I doubt they'll ignore the evidence.”</p><p>Bennett peers up at him with narrowed eyes. “What evidence?” He grunts at Barnum’s wide smirk.</p><p>“Wouldn’t you like to know.”</p><p>“Yes, I would. That is rather the point–”</p><p>“How about some breakfast? We still have dessert from last night.” Barnum cuts in innocently, and Bennett knows he will never know until Barnum decides to let him. He sighs exasperatedly. Damn the man. He’ll have his revenge. Perhaps sooner rather than later as a mischievous idea hums to life in his mind. He licks his lips.</p><p>“Splendid idea, darling.” Bennett smirks, and pushes against Barnum’s chest to prompt him into laying on his back. “However, I have an appetite for something different.” He then gracefully slides down Barnum’s body under the other man’s curious stare.</p><p>“What are you– Oh. Oh James...”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Why is there a vulture with a hat drawn in my notepad?”</p><p><br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I may make a part 2 snippet of Barnett! Possibly!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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